26.

She played her tenor sax on a vivacious city corner. Day after day, she drew stray dollars, withering looks, but never crowds. A boy holed up at a nearby café, shamelessly recording her performances, until, a month’s worth of free concerts collected, he flipped her hard knocks genius on his website. His masses soon demanded their usual jaded infinity; she staked another corner, filled with vagabond delight.

grh

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